Farewell

by Eric Raynaud

  On the other hand, for President Mitterrand, the nomination of his communist allies was a serious issue.7 The Atlantic partners of France, and the United States in particular, reacted strongly. The next day following these nominations, the U.S. State Department made an official declaration, stating, among other things: “The tone and the substance of our relations as allies will be affected by the participation of communists in this government, just the same way it would be with any other government among our West-European allies.”8 Vice President George Bush, former director of the CIA (1976–1977)—in a position to evaluate the risks these appointments might represent for the Atlantic defense—traveled to Paris in order to protest in person during his visit with the newly elected president.

  Apparently, Mitterrand chose to hedge his bets. As a matter of principle, and to reassure the French public opinion, the socialists displayed their indignation at what they considered interference in French domestic affairs. However, in reality, they would make every effort to reassure the Americans. All precautions would be taken, they declared, to prevent communist ministers from having access to information regarding the Atlantic security; and this was the case. The French prime minister Pierre Mauroy made France comply with the rules of access to information classified “secret” by NATO, thus denying the four communist ministers any possibility of accreditation or nomination to high-responsibility posts within the apparatus of government.9 Moreover, Charles Fiterman, whose responsibilities were in the most sensitive domain compared to his fellow ministers, lost part of his authority regarding the organization of transport in time of war.10

  In spite of those measures, when François Mitterrand arrived in Ottawa for his first G7 summit, he was perceived as a murky (if not shady) character by the Western leaders gathered there. The French president did not take offense because for the last few days he had been holding a major trump card.

  The DST had chosen July 14 to present Mitterrand with a token of its allegiance. At the DST’s express request, Mitterrand hosted a meeting with his old friend Gaston Defferre, accompanied by Maurice Grimaud and Marcel Chalet. The three men were greeted by Pierre Bérégovoy, Secretary General of the Presidency of the Republic, at the Elysée Palace where there was still evidence of the first garden party organized by the newly elected left government for Bastille Day.

  Defferre and Chalet had already analyzed Farewell’s deliveries and knew that this was exceptionally important. Mitterrand understood immediately the scope of this affair for his country, his party, and his personal image in the eyes of the Western Bloc. He was indeed, for now, the only leader of a capitalist country to know about the systematic technological pillage practiced by the Soviet Union, the scope of which was such that it challenged NATO policies regarding defense and security. Chalet also explained to Mitterrand the urgency to inform “our American allies” about the nature of some of the information passed by Farewell, and in particular about the radar system protecting the territory of the United States, now totally documented by the KGB. Moreover, he added, his services were in a position to provide the names of dozens of KGB moles holding the most sensitive posts in the West as well as the names of Soviet intelligence officers operating abroad.

  The president was so satisfied by this report that he gave the DST the green light to continue the Farewell operation, at a time when its mere existence was in jeopardy and in spite of the fact that such a mission was not the role of the DST and against the law! Chalet felt as if he had grown wings. Starting on that day, the DST claimed that it was the best of the French special services compared to its competition, the SDECE. This superiority was not due so much to the DST’s performance abroad as it was due to the poor results of the French intelligence services.

  At his arrival in Ottawa, François Mitterrand took the initiative with self-confidence. He requested a private meeting with the leader of the Western Bloc, President Reagan. Actually, on that day, July 19, 1981, there were four participants: Claude Cheysson and Alexander Haig, heads of the French and American diplomatic staffs respectively, were also present during these discussions.

  It was widely held that the participation of communists in the French government was increasing the chances for a tense meeting between the two presidents. In actual fact, that was not the case at all. Richard Allen, Ronald Reagan’s first national security adviser, had written up the briefing of the meeting. In his opinion, a man who had served in the French Resistance could not possibly warm up to a totalitarian regime like the Soviet Union. Reagan’s mistrust toward Mitterrand was therefore much more muted than was thought at the time.11

  When Mitterrand eventually mentioned the Farewell dossier, probably from notes written by Marcel Chalet, Reagan did not grasp its significance right away. His services would simply transmit Chalet’s note to the addressee, Vice President George Bush. In order to avoid any loss of information, Marcel Chalet favored a direct contact with one of his old acquaintances. He and Bush had known one another since the time when the American vice president was holding the post of director of the CIA, from January 1976 to January 1977. The two men knew and appreciated one another. Chalet had naturally sent him his congratulations after Bush was elected to the post of vice president. If the boss of the DST addressed the information to the former director of the CIA, it was not only to limit the number of intermediaries, but primarily to assure that “the content of the dossier and the technical aspects be discussed at an expert level, and not at a political one.”12 Chalet’s letter remitted by Mitterrand to Reagan was only a summary of the essential points, without going into particulars, and proposed a plan for the next step, which would be a meeting between Chalet and Bush.

  The following month, in August, Marcel Chalet traveled to the United States, like Bush had done in the other direction two months earlier. At the airport, a guide was waiting for Chalet with a limousine, and without saying a word, he took Chalet to his hotel.

  The next morning, the same guide picked him up and drove him to the official residence of the vice president, on Massachusetts Avenue. As Chalet got out of the car, he was greeted by Bush in person, who was both happy and intrigued to see him again and addressed him in French: “Marcel, what’s up?” Chalet realized then, with a certain satisfaction, that in Ottawa Reagan had not grasped totally the importance of the case, and that Bush knew nothing about it.

  For almost three hours, as they walked together in the park of the residence, Marcel Chalet explained to his former colleague the ins and outs of the affair. Before leaving Paris, he had carefully prepared an impressive file treating mostly the American aspects of the intelligence information produced by the Farewell operation and, in particular, the detailed Soviet knowledge of the defense of the U.S. territory. At the end of their stroll through the park, Bush, clearly shaken, said, “I’ll have to make a few phone calls.”

  The next day, a first working session was organized at the CIA with William Casey, the director of the CIA, William Webster, the chief of the FBI, and Admiral Inman, who had just left his post as director of the NSA, directly affected by the radar coverage system for the defense of the U.S. territory. This would mark the effective start of a regular collaboration between the DST and the American secret services. As an expert, Bush was able to appreciate the value of the information in the Farewell file, and he admitted a short while later that this was “the first significant breakthrough of the West behind the iron curtain.”

  After having saved the very existence of the DST in France, the Farewell dossier had also represented for Marcel Chalet a genuine reconciliation between France and the United States. For this man who had started his intelligence activities during WWII, and who had ever since nurtured a certain affection toward the Americans, the satisfaction was real. “This case, obviously, had the virtue of enhancing significantly the image of the French intelligence. For those who remembered what had been the France-USA relations the last few years, this was quite a new situation. That France was capable of providing
the United States with information that would play a critical role in the orientation of the alliance activities and the consolidation of its means of defense was an entirely new situation, and I was especially aware of it.”13

  Marcel Chalet was not mistaken about the impact of the file he had transmitted. When Ronald Reagan was eventually informed by his friend William Casey about the importance of the dossier, he was totally astounded. “This is the biggest fish of that kind caught since the war!” he acknowledged, even though this admission was obviously not to the advantage of American secret services.14 This dossier, indeed, made it necessary to revise many of the certitudes held by the free world. The American president, who was no fan of communist regimes, was thus encouraged to be yet more forceful with the Eastern Bloc.

  Ronald Reagan’s opinion of François Mitterrand changed radically. By sharing the information he had, the socialist president clearly demonstrated his attachment to the Western camp and its values. The obscure KGB lieutenant colonel who, at the same time, was perhaps about to drive to his dacha in a village without electricity, contributed to bringing the new French president to the fore of the international stage, making him, in no time, a major political figure of the West. Moreover, he was viewed as a man one could trust. From then on, his relations with Ronald Reagan would be frequent and friendly.

  Both presidents and their respective services developed a series of measures designed to make the most, while minimizing the risks, out of the revelations made by the Russian mole in the interests of the West. They were still a long way from the massive exploitation of the information provided by Farewell. Nevertheless, already the West was forced to quietly rethink its battle order starting with the radar coverage system designed to protect the U.S. territory from a surprise attack.

  Was it necessary for Mitterrand to share with another country the exploitation of the intelligence data from a source still in full operation, while every new person filled in on the case was significantly increasing the risks to “burn” the source?

  Two circumstances had dictated that decision. First, one can hardly imagine a secret service hiding from the head of state pieces of information of such a capital importance, all the more when the very survival of that service was at stake.15 Secondly, the desire of the new French president to bring a tangible proof of the fidelity of his country to the Western Bloc came, apparently, before any other consideration.

  However, outside any political considerations, one can completely share the DST chief’s opinion, according to which “in any affair of this type, and whatever its scope, one is forced to evaluate the risks versus the urgency of the measures to be taken.”16 The use of the Farewell dossier “had meaning only if the disclosed intelligence was leading to concrete measures; the arrest of the identified agents, reinforced protection of exposed targets, rethinking of compromised programs, review of security measures which appeared to be ineffective, increased surveillance of designated intelligence officers, implementation of restrictive measures aiming at crippling their activity, etc.”17

  Being in that business, Farewell had to know that political interests take precedence over the personal safety of a mole. The mole’s safety is spared only if the immediate advantages of using the provided intelligence are considered less important than the information the mole is still capable of delivering in the future. He probably was also very aware that should the information received be of a scope beyond the French interests, it would be shared with the concerned NATO country. There was nothing he could do about that. Those were the rules of the game, and by choosing to take the plunge, he was giving himself body and soul to his new masters.

  As those important international events were developing, Vetrov was spending his last summer at his dacha in Kresty. During the period when the heads of state of two great powers in the West were pondering over his dossier, the only president he was meeting with regularly was Victor Kalinin, who presided over the local kolkhoz.

  Vladimir would get up early, grab two buckets, and walk to the river Tvertsa to get water. After breakfast, equipped with a hammer and a saw, he would work all day till night. Then, either his neighbor Maria Makarovna came to visit, with her endless supply of stories, or Zhenia came, the simpleton from the neighboring village of Telitsyno, who grazed the kolkhoz herd behind their house. From time to time, Vladimir and Svetlana socialized with the Rogatins around a bottle or two, at the table they had in the yard.

  The Vetrovs were in great need of others’ company. Svetlana and Vladimir were not on speaking terms, uttering just a few words when absolutely necessary. Vetrov spent his time with Vladik. They had undertaken the construction of a terrace. As he was nailing a board down, he told his son an important secret.

  “You know, I won’t be coming back here. But the veranda will be finished.”

  Vladik put the hammer down and looked at him inquiringly.

  “I can’t take it anymore; I am leaving,” continued Vladimir.

  His son, who knew about Vetrov’s mistress, was nevertheless stunned by the news.

  “To go live with…with her?”

  “Yes.”

  Realizing the distraught look on his son’s face, Vetrov hastened to reassure him. “It won’t change a thing between us, you’ll see! You’re my son; I’ll help you and all. But I have to go away.”

  Yet, two days later, he stopped by the Rogatins’ “ranch.” As an experienced handyman, he inspected the latest improvements they’d made to their house. The basement was of special interest to him. His was three meters deep, and he was wondering what he could do with it. They also needed to work on the second floor, which could make a very romantic attic room.

  “I still have two more years to go,” said Vetrov. “Then, I will retire and come live here. It’s going to be great!”

  As he was two days earlier with his son, he seemed sincere. But if he was talking nonsense, it was apparently because he did not know what he was going to do.

  One evening, he came alone to visit the Rogatins. He was bored; it had been raining nonstop for two days. Since there was light inside, he knocked at the window, and Galina rushed up to open the door. That summer, the Rogatins had friends over, a couple, Alina and Nikolai Bocharov. They were eating, and Vladimir gladly accepted their invitation to join them.

  Alina Ivanovna’s account has the value of a snapshot. Compared to photography requiring posing by the subject, or compared to painted portraits, it is the first impression conveyed by a snapshot which is of interest. This first impression is not affected by the past actions of a familiar individual, nor by his or her future behavior. All the same, as for any testimony, some reservation is necessary. The impression is also dependent on the medium of the print. Director of a fashion atelier, like her friend Galina, Alina was a fairly simple woman. Without questioning her objectivity, it is important to understand that, to her, Vetrov was somehow from another planet.

  Fifteen years later, Alina remembered vividly this handsome man who charmed her immediately. He had a strong build, a pleasant voice, was always elegantly dressed, even in this village in the middle of nowhere, and his manners and way of speaking were those of a well-educated man. Vladimir had what she would call the “polish” of somebody who had lived in the West.

  Alina was, first of all, struck by the candor of this late guest, even though she knew he was a KGB officer. During a general conversation where the guests were jumping from one subject to another, Vetrov revealed that, supposedly, Lenin died from syphilis, and he made no bones about criticizing Andropov, the big boss of the KGB. In one hour, he said more than would have been needed to put him away for “anti-Soviet propaganda.” Maybe because he realized that he was talking too freely, he advised the people at the table to never mention such topics in Moscow, where all it took was to run an additional wire to the lamppost across the street to tap any “seditious” conversations.

  Progressively, Alina realized that Vladimir was not his normal self. He seemed under the weight
of a tremendous emotional burden. This uneasy feeling got worse once they were alone. It was getting late, and Galina invited Vetrov to stay overnight. Then, everybody went to bed, but Vladimir and Alina stayed behind to chat a little longer.

  Clearly, Vetrov needed to talk. Alina remembers him sitting on a wooden bench, between two dogs, the Rogatins’ boxer and the Bocharovs’ poodle. As he was petting them, he told her about Ludmila, with whom he was madly in love. This even surprised Alina. Who could this woman be who managed to ensnare a handsome, intelligent man, with such a beautiful spouse like Svetlana? In fact, instead of making him happy, this love affair seemed to be a permanent source of stress. At some point, Vladimir broke into tears in Alina’s presence. She was, after all, not a close friend of his. This struck her all the more because they had been drinking only tea the entire evening. More and more, she thought there was something wrong with him psychologically.

  A few days later, she had confirmation that Vetrov did not know what he was doing. The elegant man she had seen the other night showed up with only the lining of a shapka (a Russian fur hat) on his head. This was really weird. Even peasants, who had no problem wearing their grandfathers’ grimy caps, would not have worn this thing. Alexei Rogatin vaguely suggested that it could be nice to grill meat on skewers outside. Vetrov left on the spot, soon to return with a live sheep he had bought in the village. A neighbor killed it and cut it up, but the urbanites did not feel like eating an animal that one hour earlier was bleating outside the window. Vetrov did not want it either, and he took the meat away, packed in a bucket. Obviously, the man was jumping on any opportunity that presented itself to be entertained and to keep his anxiety at bay.